


Onew's Biceps

by pretendimanauthor



Category: SHINee
Genre: Comedy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9630125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretendimanauthor/pseuds/pretendimanauthor
Summary: key n minho r workin out but onew's real hot n key's real clumsywarnings: cursing





	

“ _Je_ sus _fuck_ ing _chriiiiiiiiist_ ,” Key whines, flopping onto his back.

“What’s wrong? You haven’t done nearly enough crunches to be that tired,” Minho, Key’s personal trainer, gazes down at Key’s pitiful position on the abdominal bench.

“No, no. It’s not that,” Key puts his hands behind his head and resumes his workout, “It’s _him_.” As he lifts himself up, he points to a man’s reflection in the giant wall mirror.

“Onew?” Minho momentarily diverts his attention from Key to watch the gym regular lift two 30 lb dumbbells.

“Don’t be so loud,” Key hisses, glaring at Minho’s reflection.

“Sorry,” Minho grins, “You can rest before the next set.”

“Oh thank god,” Key lays down on the declined bench, watching Onew from in between Minho’s legs. Minho rolls his eyes, but widens his stance. “He’s just _so hot_.”

“I mean, I guess.”

“Ugh, I know you like tiny pretty boys, Minho, but _Onew,_ ” Key rubs his hands over his reddening face, unconcerned that all the blood is rushing to his head from this upside-down position.

“Alright,” Minho checks his watch, “Twenty more, and a little faster this time.”

“His-thighs-are-godlike,” Key says in between crunches, “I-want-to-”

“Keep going.”

“-bear-his-children.”

“Oh my god. Calm down.”

“How can I?” Key takes a sip from his water bottle, “He’s- oh my god. He’s doing one-armed push-ups now.”

“Please just focus on the workout,” Minho sighs. Key never improves on days Onew is around.

“What-kind-of-” Key sits up, finished with the last set of crunches, “music do you think he’s listening to?”

“I don’t know?” Minho hands Key his face towel.

“Rap. I bet he listens to rap,” Key says dreamily.

“Sure, Key. See you on Friday,” Minho walks away shaking his head.

“Bye! Thank you!” Key calls. He begins to head towards the locker room, crossing the free weight area. Completely lost in thoughts of his upcoming work day, he trips over a stray dumbbell and just about falls into a rack of ball weights when a strong, sweaty hand grips his arm.

“Oh my god, thank you. I’m such a dork-” Key freezes. Onew. Onew grabbed his arm. Onew’s hand is on his arm right now, at this very moment.

“Are you okay?” Onew releases Key and smiles. Classical music blares from an earbud dangling over his collar.

“Um,” Key gulps, “Yeah. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Onew picks up the dumbbell that almost killed Key, “Be more careful, though.”

“Yes,” Key nods, trying not to be obvious about the way he’s ogling Onew’s flexed bicep, “Will do.”

“See you around!” Onew deposits the weight onto the rack, and gives Key one last smile.

“Okay,” Key squeaks, fleeing to the locker room.

Across the gym, Minho sighs and leans against a postered wall. They aren’t getting any work done on Friday.


End file.
